I guess I have a gift for expressing pedestrian tastes. In a way, it's kind of depressing.

Buttons ... check. Dials ... check. Switches ... check. Little colored lights ... check.

You will do well to cultivate the resources in yourself that bring you happiness outside of success or failure.

I like my smock. You can tell the quality of the artist by the quality of his smock. Actually, I just like to say smock. Smock smock smock smock smock smock.

Happiness isn't good enough for me! I demand euphoria!

Ah, the life of a newspaper cartoonist - how I miss the groupies, drugs and trashed hotel rooms!

Blustery cold days should be spend propped up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate and a pile of comic books.